Title: And Now for Something Completely Different...

Author: Aqua Phoenix1

Disclaimer: 24 and any people or places affiliated with it are not property of the author i.e. me. Unfortunately.

Rating: PG-13 (liable to skyrocket in coming chapters)

A/N: Yes, I am back, but probably not for too long. Too much work on my plate at the moment, not to mention Christmas coming up and all the planning and preparation that goes with it. However, if anyone is still reading this I'd like to thankyou for your ongoing support and wish you all a very merry Christmas, just in case I don't get another chapter up before then. Hope you all get what you wished for!

Just a word of warning about the story: the rating will likely go up to R in not-so-distant chapters. So if you can't find And Now for Something Completely Different displayed on your screen, that's probably the reason. While I haven't exactly sketched out the entire plot in my head, I have a good idea of what's to come... Things are going to get more violent around here. But this chapter's nothing heavy, just Jack's typical weekend, so there's nothing to be scared of yet.

As always, on with the show...!

Too short to play basketball, lacking the bulk of a footballer and being uninterested in everything in between, Jack had never been a real sportsman. That was, with the exception of soccer.

Soccer was something Jack excelled at, something he never would've picked as "the sport he was created for," as Chase oh-so-sincerely assured him. The first time he'd had a crack at it, sure, he hadn't been the greatest, but then again who really nailed something on their first try? What he had been was the top dog during that PE lesson, playing ten times better than the rest of his class, perhaps not a medal worthy achievement but an achievement nonetheless. His skill with the soccer ball surprised Jack especially, the ease with which he weaved it through his legs, up over his head, in for a goal (though these were rare, even by soccer standards.) And his dogged courage, never truly acknowledged until that one game, was easily his best asset. Knowing that he might not be fast or strong enough to steal the ball but going in headfirst anyway. "No guts, no glory" had become his private motto, and he replayed it in his head like a mantra.

Of course, that sometimes meant shutting up and taking what the world dealt you like a man.

Another good thing about soccer: it was an excuse to remove himself from the confines of his house. While Jack loved his overworked mother deeply, he preferred to stay out of his stepfather's way. What had began as normal dubiousness at the thought of a new authority figure in his life had turned into a dislike brought on over the past year during which the man had become an alcoholic, a fact that was stubbornly denied by both parenting parties. True, Martin cared about him – at least Jack's life wasn't completely one big cliché – but when they had lost Teri the bottle became the man's only refuge. And when he was drunk, it was far less than an un-pretty sight.

Ever since Teri had gone, things had gotten worse; one of the hardest things to deal with that Teri's death brought with it was Jack's punishment for being a good brother. Forsaking the majority of his exams in favour of waiting at his baby sister's bedside had cost him dearly – a whole year's worth of schooling – but if anything he reasoned he should be grateful to Palmer, who had pulled a few strings to get him re-enrolled, allowing him to repeat the course, something that many teachers had disagreed with. To make matters worse, because Jack was under severe trauma at the time, any evidence of naughty behaviour was automatically attributed to him: graffiti, messing up people's lockers and such. While Jack mightn't have been the most emotionally stable at the time, he wasn't stupid enough to unleash his rage on unsuspecting kiddies.

Remembering delivering the news to Jane the night before made Jack feel insanely guilty: the younger Saunders was still a child herself and it seemed unfair to lay that burden on her, a bright and promising girl. Though she would've found out sooner or later; as Teri's friend she had every right to know. Which brought up another question: why hadn't she heard the news, being as close to Teri as she had been? More than likely, Stephen hadn't wanted her to know and certainly hadn't been expecting her back in Los Angeles any time soon. At least Jack had half-protected her from the truth... Details weren't necessary during that initial period of grief. All you can do is deny that it ever happened, denial which eventually turns to anger et cetera, et cetera. That is, according to Dr Chappelle – and in Jack's opinion that didn't account for much.

The smack of the soccer ball colliding with his stomach was enough to bring Jack back to the moment. He fell to the ground with a small grunt, the unanticipated force behind the shot coupled with his surprise enough to topple the usually steady on his feet teen. Massaging his abdomen as a shrill whistle cut the air, Jack studied the ball until Chase's feet made their way into his field of vision. The shaved-headed one looked down at him, his usual silly grin replaced by a tight grimace. 'What's up with you today? That's the third shot you've missed,' the lack of mockery in Chase's voice told Jack that he must've been daydreaming again.

The blonde shrugged off the comment, not sure how one responded to that kind of criticism and sat picking at the weedy tickling his fingers; the other flipped the ball up with one foot and adeptly caught it with both hands. Chase rolled his eyes at his friend's lack of enthusiasm, all pretence of concern dissolving as quickly as it had arrived and lightly kicked the sandy haired Jack. 'C'mon! Coach'll make us do laps if you don't pull yourself together,' he called over his shoulder as he jogged back to midfield.

That got Jack moving again. He sprung to his feet, ignoring the headache he was enduring courtesy of his late night out along with his affiliation with Jack Daniels. If there was one good thing about having no social life, it was the distinct lack of hangovers that came with it. Maybe he just needed to do this sort of thing more, build up his immunity system against all that crap. Jack wondered where that thought had come from, then attributed it to spending too much time around Kim, the eternal dumb blonde. "Dumb" in the nicest sense, mind.

With a sigh, Jack took up his new position in the goalie's square, shifting into his ready-to-block stance. He didn't know why Coach Baker had allocated him the position of keeper today; Jack was a wingman, an attacker, and he wasn't very good with his hands. Maybe he just expected him to stand there and get pummelled, undoubtedly his field of expertise. Jack smirked at the irony.

Roy was sprinting upfield; a quick pass from Chase and the ball was then in the redhead's possession. Roy expertly eluded a sliding tackle from Ben, faked a pass back to Chase and instead belted the soccer ball at goal. This time, Jack was ready for it: flinging his body to the left, he used his entire length to stifle the attempt. The black and white blur ricocheted off his shin and as he fell to the ground once again, Jack hugged it to himself, preventing any further shots.

The whistle rang again and Coach Baker's voice rang out over the oval, 'That's enough for today. Remember, first game of the season's next Saturday. I expect everyone to show up.' Forget wishes of good luck or words of encouragement. Baker meant business. Though he was nice enough if you spoke with him one-on-one, in a group situation where he had to maintain his authority, Baker could be downright ruthless if he had to.

Jack smoothed back his untidy hair and rolled over, utterly spent. Baker had been hammering them since God knows when... He must be really determined this year, Jack frowned.

'Hey, Jack.'

Jack's eyes widened at the sound of the familiar gentle voice. Peering up into clear blue eyes, eyes that were more azure than his own sea-blue ones, he suddenly felt very foolish, becoming all too aware of how ridiculous he must look. He hurriedly shuffled into a sitting position and smiled in greeting, forgetting how tired he was.

'What brings you out this early? After last night I thought you'd be needing a sleep in.' The seventeen-year-old found himself grinning at Kate, who mirrored his expression as she sank down beside him. Finding the soccer ball she began to roll it back and forth nonchalantly as she spoke. 'I'm fine, really. I still don't know how it happened. One minute I was talking with Nina, the next I was on the floor.' Kate seemed genuinely embarrassed about the incident; Jack wondered at her innocence.

'Not a party girl?'

The New Yorker's smile turned sheepish, 'Am I that transparent?' A sudden gust of wind sent golden tresses flying, carrying her laughter away. Batting her hair from her eyes, Kate said, 'Kim was really nice about it... Which reminds me... thanks.'

'Thanks?' If he'd done anything thanks-worthy lately, Jack sure didn't know about it. He turned to face her, waiting patiently for the explanation that wasn't being supplied and soon found himself scanning her face and neck for the blemishes, those small imperfections, that make us individuals. Finding none only caused him to look harder – a habit Jack had developed through the past year when he hadn't been speaking all that much. The object of his studying didn't seem to notice or if she did, she didn't care. 'Kim also told me that you were looking out for me last night...'

Now Jack discovered she was searching his face. As their eyes met Jack felt an unexpected heat rise in his cheeks, making him quickly avert his gaze. 'Well...' he fumbled for an appropriate response. She had, after all, practically declared him as her proverbial knight in shining armour... definitely a first. It was a strange thing to be questioning someone's good nature, though. Jack himself, he did it because of his upbringing but Kate seemed to have a better than good life. She was probably just curious.

'It's what any decent human being would've done, right?' He ventured another look, trying to gauge her reaction, secretly hoping he'd given a favourable reply.

Kate smiled again, perfectly white teeth gleaming through her parted pink lips, 'Well, I'm glad I have a decent human being watching my back.'

There was a moment of silence, but it was companionable, nothing like the awkwardness there had been between Jack and Nina... their entire relationship had been akin to tiptoeing through a minefield. This was something completely different; while they barely knew one another, Jack felt free to express anything he wished to this new girl.

'And I also wanted to apologize.'

Now that was entirely unexpected. What did Kate have to be sorry for?

'I saw you after school. You and Hector. And I know that whatever's going on between you guys is none of my business but I should've don't something. I'm sorry, Jack.'

Jack couldn't help but stare. She'd known? She knew he was hated?

She was still talking to him?

...She was asking him to forgive her.

Kate must've taken his silence for wordless fury because her eyes began to tear up a bit, though she tried hard not to show it, to banish them. For her own benefit, Jack pretended he hadn't noticed and instead answered coolly, 'It doesn't matter. You would've only wound up hurt. But thanks for the offer.' That last part was accompanied by Jack resting his hand atop hers in what he hoped was a platonic manner. Kate blinked, surprised at his acceptance (had she been expecting rejection?), happy that she hadn't destroyed this newborn friendship.

Jack gently pulled away and rose to his feet. He'd been lucky this time but sooner or later she'd come to her senses and leave him, just like everyone else with half a brain (Chase, he though with a smirk, didn't count.) Jack knew it was best to keep out of these things, better to avoid placing yourself in situations where you can get hurt. But still, that part in all humans remained, the part that longed to be important, to be needed. Kate had needed him and even if she hadn't reciprocated his gallant rescue at least she had bothered to apologize for it. That was why he decided to play things out, to keep going the way fate was leading him: because while she mightn't have done the right thing for Jack, she had acknowledged her fault and, more importantly, had the same desire to be necessary as he did. Why else would she pick him as a friend? She chose Jack in hopes of narrowing her chances of being unaccepted.

'See you on Monday?' He didn't know why it sounded like a question; of course she'd be at school. Just his insecurities interfering again.

Kate also stood up, dusting off her jeans whilst the soccer ball was firmly tucked beneath her arm. 'Sure thing,' she passed the ball to him. Jack blinked once as he felt the object slap against him before realising he had caught it. For a time he stared at it, bewildered.

The blonde girl took her leave, pausing halfway across the oval to wave her goodbye. Jack parroted her gesture before setting off down his own path, on his way home, turning the ball over in his hands as Kate had done. The sun beat down its cheery warmth, doing little to melt Jack's self-constructed icy exterior, which Kate had dutifully begun chipping away at. The realisation was more liberating than Jack had thought it would be, knowing that he could still respond to female contact and wasn't some asexual zombie. You were supposed to get all uncomfortable and trip over your own words, right? Jack laughed softly to himself.

Kate had some courage to admit her mistakes to a kid from the wrong side of the tracks, a guy she had known for a maximum of three hours. Was she faking it, setting him up for some humiliating fall or was that simply the way she was? And why was he so drawn to her, like a tiny planet being tugged towards the sun only to end up helplessly spiralling round the bright orb? Maybe he was just desperate for contact with a fellow Homo sapien, and upon seeing his chance had sprung on the blissfully ignorant newcomer in hopes of recruiting her to his own selfish wants. The social outcast who pretends to be cool, the tough guy who slams on the mask in order to lure in an unsuspecting victim... Was that why he was more open with Kate Warner than was characteristic?

God, he hoped not. Hoped that he wasn't using her. Kate deserved better than that.

Besides, he hadn't been pretending anything with her: he'd proclaimed outright what society had labelled him, told her what it would mean if she hung out with him. And did Kate care? No, she was true to herself, doing what she felt was right, even offering kind words when they weren't requested. If only everyone was like that... Jack sighed sadly. The world would chew up that goodness and spit it out. Poor, deluded girl. Maybe he should be the first to let her down because he would do it gently, make her more careful yet guard her spirit. Yes, he could hurt her in a nice way. It was for her own good, after all.

He trudged across the road, feeling the first specks of a sun shower. Birds twittered noisily in the elms lining the empty street, revelling in the odd combination of warm and cool. Jack tilted his face upwards, enjoying the feel of tiny pricks against his flushed face as the rain sprinkled down. Wispy white clouds floated lazily across the boundless sky. As those clouds began to look more and more like fairy floss, Jack decided he'd better grab something to eat – his tummy agreed, egging him on with an embarrassingly loud grumble. Quickening his pace, the sandy-headed one turned down a side alley, a shortcut to a milkbar, all the while wondering what the rapidly approaching Monday would bring with it.